What Could Have Been
by dreams.are.sweet
Summary: DMHG Slightly AU. They were two opposites, from totally different worlds. How will they overcome their differences to be able to survive the rest of the year?
1. Know It All and Ferret

**What Could Have Been**

Disclaimer: I don't think I'm good enough to write the Harry Potter series just yet.

Chapter One – Know-It-All and Ferret

He was the most popular guy in school, she was the outcast. He was adored by all the girls, she was looked down by the guys. He was loved, she was loathed. He was good looking, she was unattractive. He was a pureblood, she was a muggle-born. They both came from totally different worlds, and yet they came to know each other through the one thing they had in common – magic.

For her, the moment she saw him with his group of adoring fans, she felt a tugging in her heart. She admired him, from his gorgeous blond locks to his perfect facial features. He was her first crush, but with their different social status, and the different worlds that they came from, there was no hope in a relationship blossoming between them.

For him, the moment he set his eyes on her, she repulsed the every fibre of his being. From her bushy hair to her bucked out teeth, she was a sore sight to bear. She was to become his pleasurable torment, the satisfying play toy of his school years.

Throughout the first five years of their school years, he lived up to his words, irritating her in every possible way. She, in her part, grew out of her crush and saw the truth in her very own eyes, especially after her fourth year when he was transformed into a ferret. To her, that was the very best thing that could have ever happened to the stuck up Draco 'Ferret' Malfoy.

It annoyed him how she was able to become best friends with the famous Harry Potter. How the Boy Who Lived could look him in his face and say no to his friendship, and yet befriend the ugly Know-It-All mudblood and a traitorous Weasley. And how he could enjoy her company and laugh with her, and feel repulsed by the mere presence of his being. And so he kept his word, and infuriated her in the worst possible ways.

In fourth year, he was angry to find that she was able to look decent. On the night of the Yule Ball, he was anything but delighted to see her hanging onto her date, who just happened to be someone he admired. The sight of her glowing smile radiating from her body was enough for him to feel the bile charting their course up into his mouth.

Sixth year caused him to finally realise the truth. After the devastating death of their headmaster, his mind had cleared up. What was once filled up with promises of power and wealth, was washed away, replaced by the horrifying image of Dumbledore's trusting expression.

And now the last and final year of his time at Hogwarts had arrived. With the war finally over, he could relax at last, without his father bothering him and the Dark Lord giving him pointless orders. He was free to do his will; after all, his father and his so called 'lord' were dead.

And her? She was rejoicing the whole of the summer holidays after the Great War with her best friends. Harry, who had fallen into a coma right after Lord Voldemort's defeat had finally awoken, just three weeks before Hogwarts new school year began. And yes, Dumbledore had not died; in fact, he had made a special guest appearance during the Great War, surprising everyone, save the Potions Master.

It was the day the so called 'Golden Trio' returned to their school – they were dubbed that name shortly after the fall of the Dark side. She was still the same old Know-It-All, rushing around wildly, with her frizzy hair flowing behind her. Her trunk was packed and already standing neatly beside the front door. Her problem was her pet cat, Crookshanks, who had decided to pull a disappearing act one last time.

However, the same could not be said for her first crush. He was waiting impatiently for his mother to escort him to the station, after spending almost an hour in front of the bathroom mirror primping himself up. His hair was carefully combed; his fringe hung just above his eyes, giving him the 'bad boy' look; his mouth so painstakingly manipulated into his 'normal' smirk.

He looked at his reflection once more in the hall mirror, a feeling of the usual smugness surging through his body. Who would have thought that he would have made Head Boy. But then again, he had been made a prefect, so it was not so hard to imagine after all. The only feeling of dread he had from becoming Head Boy was that the most likely candidate for Head Girl was Hermione 'Know-It-All Bookworm' Granger. But he would cross the bridge when he came to it.

His mother finally ready, the two of them apparated to the station, arriving five minutes early.

His alleged nemesis was currently climbing hurriedly out of her car, as she was running late. The train was going to leave in exactly two minutes, and if she did not hurry, then she was going to miss it. And in her last year of Hogwarts as Head Girl! Head Girl! Where was her badge? She turned around, intending to rush back to the car and look for it, but fortunately for her, her father had seen her drop it. She thanked him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before dashing once more towards the barrier.

Appearing on the other side, she was unfortunate enough to crash into someone. She proceeded to pick up her possessions, which had somehow scattered all over the place. The person she had crashed into had already walked off, not even bothering to help her retrieve her belongings. She cursed, as she calculated that she had approximately 45 seconds left to board the train. A pale hand suddenly reached out to help her, and she looked up gratefully to find one of her best friends helping her out. Ron, being the gentleman he was, carried her trunk towards the luggage carriage, whilst she headed towards the compartment Ron, Harry, and her always occupied.

The blond who she had once had a crush on, was presently sitting in his compartment, with his fans crowding outside, and cluttering up the corridor. He soon realised that he had to make his way to the Head's compartment, to discuss the rules and what-not with his partner.

The frizzy haired girl on the other hand was already sitting primly in the compartment, after telling her friends the good news that she had been made Head Girl. She had not been too crestfallen to find out that neither of them had been made Head Boy. Harry, she knew, would not need the added pressure, especially after the Great War. Ron, although he had been made a prefect, did not have the required academic achievements to be made Head Boy. The only person she could think of that could have had a possibility was Ernie Macmillan, of whom she was only too glad to work with.

So to her utter astonishment, surprise, and indignation, she found the one and only Draco 'Ferret' Malfoy push his way into the Head's Compartment, with his adoring fans tagging behind. For Hermione Jane Granger, this was going to be one hell of a long year.


	2. Those Mindless Idiots

**What Could Have Been**

A/N: I have actually come up a plot with this. Sorry for the lack of updates on my other fic, it will come eventually.

Disclaimer: I don't think I'm good enough to write the Harry Potter series just yet.

Chapter Two – Those Mindless Idiots

To say Hermione was shocked would be an understatement. Slumping down on her seat, she resisted the urge to bang her head against the window. _This is just a bad dream; I am hallucinating, I am hallucinating…_

Meanwhile, her two best friends were looking at her worriedly. She had been like this ever since she had arrived back from her meeting; sitting slouched in her seat, and staring into nothing. Neither one of them were willing to break her from her trance, but also not wanting to act so tentative around her any longer. Finally, Ron gathered up the courage to sit down hesitantly next to her and ask her what was wrong.

In response, Hermione just smiled reassuringly at him, told him not to worry, and walked out of the compartment. The two boys stared at each other, shrugged, and got out a pack of Exploding Snap.

On the other end of the train, Draco Malfoy, also known as the "Slytherin Prince", was also having difficulty in digesting the conversation he just had with the school bookworm. _Damn, what are all those other people going to think when they find out I offered that proposition with Granger?_ And what would his house think; when they found out that he had offered a truce to the Bookworm Head Girl? Not only them, but the rest of the school would think he had become insane. His reputation would surely go spiralling downhill rapidly.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it, _he thought, while continually hitting his head against the window. His group of fans stood outside his compartment, horrified at his action. Wanting to rush in and comfort their adoring "Prince", but not having the courage to do so caused the group of them to continue watching, with their forlorn expression masked onto their faces. They grimaced and winced each time they saw his beautiful porcelain face make contact with the clear window pane.

He finally grew tired of sacrificing his brain cells to a mere piece of glass. Instead, he flopped back onto his chair, and his face contorted with pain as his head hit the back of the seat.

The sky flying by outside was gradually changing and becoming darker with each passing minute. At first, he thought it was because the train was nearing Hogwarts, but upon glancing out the window a second time (at which he scowled at; after all, it was the cause of his pain), he saw that it was not the result of the time passing. A storm was brewing, and with his experience of storms, he knew this was not going to be a gentle one.

His partner, on the other hand, was currently hiding in a toilet, all the while assuring herself that she was not becoming insane. She figured she would have to get out soon; there were quite a number of voices telling her to hurry up, and finish her business already.

Finally admitting defeat to the sounds of angry voices outside, she opened the door, only to be faced with many red faced girls, who mostly belonged to the oh-so-adoring fans of the one and only Draco Malfoy. The literally dragged her out and bombarded her with questions, which ran along the lines of "What have you done with our Drakie-poo?" She flinched at the absurd pet name for the "Slytherin Prince", all the while denying the accusations flung at her. Finally, she was able to escape from the impossible throng of girls and run into the nearest compartment. She locked the door with the most complex spell known, and made to sit down on the seat, only to find an occupant already there, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and distaste.

She flushed out of embarrassment; to think her mortal enemy was sitting there right nest to her, while she had come fleeing into his arms. Well, not really right into his arms, but the compartment was close enough. To have escaped those imbecilic girls, only to be stuck with the ferret, the object of her trouble. Thinking through the pros and cons of staying in the same carriage as the ferret or running through the train to the other side and back into her own compartment, she finally decided to stick with him. For now anyway.

The sky had visibly darkened since five minutes ago. It now looked as if it were about to pour any second. And it did. The first round of thunder and lightning came so suddenly, it caused Hermione to jump in her seat from fright. She had not expected this; indeed, she had thought the darkening sky was a sign that they were almost at Hogwarts. The most unfortunate thing was not the storm itself, it was more the fact that she was deathly afraid of them, and no-one, not even her two best friends knew of her secret. And now, her enemy was about to discover it.

While she sat there, straight as a board, he observed her, wondering why she was so rigid. Realisation suddenly hit him, and a smirk made its way onto his face. The storm had not even arrived yet, and she was already terrified. Ah, this was going to become a great blackmail item. He was about to rub in the fact that she was scared, but then another flash of lightning and thunder occurred, and she screamed, clutching onto his arm rather solidly, pulling it up to her mouth.

His eyes began to water in pain, as her nails dug deep into his skin. He yelled at her to let go, but she was beyond petrified to even hear him. Had the carriage door not been locked, his fans would have surely rushed in and helped him out of his predicament. Unfortunately for him and them, the door was locked, and they were not smart enough to know the counter-spell to the lock. So to the complete horrification of the group of girls, they watched him being used as a chew toy (not that any of them knew what it was, being purebloods and all) by the Head Girl.

Fortunately for the 'ferret', she finally let go, but not before a huge set of teeth marks were embellished onto his pale arm. He looked at it with shock, not registering the fact that the person who had caused the mark had quietly and discreetly slipped out of the carriage, somehow creeping through the fans without them noticing.

As the train sighted the Hogsmeade Station, Hermione stumbled back into her carriage, seeing Harry and Ron nearly wetting themselves with worry over her disappearance. Assuring them that she was alright, she shooed them out of the room so that she could get changed. Once they were out of the carriage, she collapsed onto the seat, willing herself to calm down. The storm had gone as sudden as it had arrived, but she was still shaken.

With the train finally screeching to a halt, Hermione stood up, and looked at her reflection in the window. If one did not look at her closely, she could almost pass for looking like her normal self.

Hopping off the train, she was glad to find Harry and Ron waiting for her anxiously, with her luggage already packed into the horseless carriages. They ushered her in, with her squashed in between Ginny and Neville. She tried to settle down; mentally preparing herself for the wondrous year she was in for.


	3. Secret Admirer?

**What Could Have Been**

Disclaimer: It's funny really; I mean, if the Harry Potter series were mine, I don't really think I would be here submitting stories onto FanFiction, and desperately awaiting reviews.

Chapter Three – Secret Admirer?

The entire school, with the exception of the first years, all waited impatiently for the Sorting to begin. Yes, even the Head Girl could be seen, staring at the empty plates longingly, her stomach growling with hunger. She had, after all, spent most of her journey to Hogwarts sitting in the toilet.

With the sorting and the feast over, the Head Girl stood up, signalling for the Gryffindor prefects to show the timid, but tired first years to the common room. On the other side of the hall, she sighted Professor McGonagall beckoning her over to her. With a surprised look on her face, the Head Girl walked over, fighting against the sea of eager students fleeing the hall.

She finally reached the Professor, and to her indignation, she saw that her arch-nemesis was standing next to the Professor. Glowering at him, she promptly turned her back to him, all the while, rearranging her facial features into a forced smile.

The Professor ignored the tension, and proceeded to explain the Heads' lodgings for the year. Both bore the same look of grimace, as she announced that they would be sharing a common room, and living in the same quarters, all the while leading them towards their rooms.

She suddenly stopped abruptly, and the Head Boy, not realising that, bumped into the Head Girl. She threw him a look of utmost loathing, whilst he stepped back and dusted his robes, as if he had come in contact with something dirty.

Professor McGonagall stood in front of a portrait, which obviously held the entrance to the Heads' quarters. Uttering the password, the portrait swung open to reveal a gorgeous common room. It was richly furnished with all the requirements of a living room, with the exception of muggle appliances. There were squishy armchairs on one side of the room, whilst two desks and chairs (one read, and one green), resided on the other side of the room.

"It's…it's beautiful, Professor," Hermione managed to say.

She walked through the portrait hole, and up to a door which clearly labelled 'Head Girl' on a golden plaque. She opened the door, and what lay inside took her breath away. A Queen-Size four-poster bed was positioned against one side of the room, while a pair of doors lay next to it. She opened it up, and was amazed to find it was a wardrobe; an enormous wardrobe that could fit triple the amount of clothes she owned. On the other side of the room, there was another door, and upon opening it, she discovered the bathroom. The bathroom, to describe bluntly, made the prefects' one seem small, compared to the size of hers.

Her face formed a frown, however, when she noticed another door on the opposite side of the room. Just as she was wondering where it would lead to, the door opened, and the Head Boy emerged. Not only was Hermione shocked, she was outraged by the fact that they would both have to share the same bathroom.

She watched his face form the infuriating smirk of his, and stormed out of the bathroom. Whilst she really felt like a shower, she was not about to go marching back in and demand privacy. She was, after all, tired from all the excitement on the train. She slipped into her pyjamas, and under the covers of her bed, snuggling into the warmth of the bed.

The Head Boy, after watching her storm out of the bathroom, decided to take a shower and clean himself. After the refreshing shower, he changed into a pair of boxers and a plain green t-shirt. Yawning widely, he flopped unceremoniously down onto his bed, and fell asleep promptly.

xXxXxXxXx

The Great Hall was buzzing with voices of the students as Hermione walked in. She sat down and helped herself to some pumpkin juice just as Professor McGonagall came around, handing out the timetables. Hermione heard Ron groaning loudly next to her, no doubt he realised they had Double Potions first with the Slytherins.

"At least it's Slughorn teaching," Harry reassured him.

xXxXxXxXx

Hermione's shoulders slumped as she walked into the Great Hall for lunch. Alone. Potions had been horrible; the Slytherins causing trouble as usual. Professor Slughorn, being the absentminded teacher he was, did not see the Pansy slip a dandelion into Ron's potions, no doubt under the orders of the ferret. The potion had blown up as soon as Ron added the bezoar into his cauldron, and was escorted by Harry to the Hospital Wing, leaving Hermione all alone.

She ate her lunch by herself, and then proceeded towards the Heads Common Room, deciding to start on her Potions assignment while she had the time. On her way, she bumped into the Head Boy, and he, being the git, pushed her in retaliation. Hermione fell to the floor, and her books tumbled out of her bag. His cronies sniggered as she swept her books untidily back into her back. She held her head high as she walked away.

As Hermione entered the common room, she was surprised to see an owl perched on the coffee table in the centre of the room. The thing that caught her attention though, was the parcel tied to the owl's leg. It was wrapped up in the most beautiful wrapping paper she had ever seen. The colours of silver and gold captured her attention, and drew her in. It wasn't as if she had never seen gold and silver wrapping papers before; it just that the current one was just so stunning; the colours seeming to jump out of the paper it was painted on.

On the side of the parcel was a note. Written on it was simply the words "To Hermione Granger." She shivered slightly, wondering who she knew would send her something wrapped in such an enticing paper. Gingerly, she reached a hand forward and unfolded the note. However, there was no name of the sender written on it.

As curiosity got the better of her, the Head Girl slowly unwrapped the package, so not to rip the paper. When at last all the paper had been pulled back, she was greeted with the sight of a simple, yet elegant gift box. With trembling hands, she lifted the lid, and gasped in shock. There, in the bottom of the box lay a single red rose. Next to it was a scrap of paper with "W.S." scrawled on it.


End file.
